life had been a nonstop battle to belong, where everyday encounters forced her to defend her own identity.
“You fit with me.” Taking the ice cream out of her hands and setting it on the island, he took her into his arms. “See, a perfect fit.”
She slid her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest, holding on as if this was the most important hug of her life. Hell, it was for him. She fit so damn perfectly he never wanted to move, so he didn’t. Just stood there, silently holding her while his heart pounded against his chest. Her heart was doing some pounding of its own, fast and erratic, the tempo radiating through him.
“You’ve never asked about any of that. Why?” she whispered.
“None of that matters to me,” he murmured back, his voice a little huskier than before. “The moment you locked me out of my own room, I knew I wanted to learn everything there was to know about you.”
“You said I was crazy.”
“You always seem to leave out the cutie part,” he said. “And while I do love a cutie, I was even more intrigued by the woman who tried to kill me in my own house, then lectured me and locked me out of my bedroom. Independent, real, honest, strong—and stubborn enough to call me on my shit even after you realized I was your landlord.”
“You forgot smart.” Her fingers, which had been laced around his neck, slowly slid up through his hair.
“And sexy.” His fingers did some sliding too, down her back, lower and lower until he was reaching a line that, once crossed, could never be undone. “So incredibly sexy you have me stumbling over myself trying to impress you.”
It was dark so he couldn’t be certain, but he was pretty sure she was blushing—and staring at his mouth.
“For the record, you aren’t my landlord, you’re my roommate.” She shimmied toward the edge of the counter—and him—making this a serious run don’t walk toward that finish line kind of scenario, and he was just waiting for her to blow the whistle.
“We’re a whole lot more than roommates, Anh.”
“This would never work,” she said—against the side of his neck. “You’re all about grand gestures, and I’m into the little things.”
He pulled back enough that she had to lift her head. “Only because you’ve never had a gesture grand enough to be worthy of you. And for the record, I think this will work just fine.”
She seemed to have flipped to the same page as he, because she didn’t take her gaze from his lips. “Are you going to kiss me now?”
“I believe this is a ladies-first kind of situation,” he said, knowing full well he didn’t give a shit who kissed who first. All he cared was that it finally happened.
Actually, that wasn’t true.
Emmitt knew Annie’s life had been a revolving door of disappointment, and he cared about her too much to be one more person to take her for a spin.
“Which also means ladies set the rules. How far, how fast—this is on your terms,” he whispered. “But if you’re asking for my consent, then the big ‘Fuck Yeah’ in my pants is all the consent you need.”
And luck of all that was lucky, she got the message.
One minute her lips weren’t anywhere near his mouth; then she leaned forward and there they were and—Christ almighty—when Anh Nhi Walsh set her mind to something she was fully, completely, and mind-body-and-soulfully committed to the cause. And right now, she was proving that she was a kissing genius of the superhuman kind.
Emmitt had been kissed and he’d been kissed, but he’d never come close to being kissed like this. On a scale of scorching to molten lava, Annie was nearing surface-of-the-sun levels.
Not too hot that he’d be afraid of getting burned.
Not too cold that he’d have to wonder if she was going to ditch the shirt and teal lace.
Oh no, his Goldilocks’ kiss was just right.
Teasing and languid, her mouth gently moved against his as if she’d been dreaming of this moment for as long as he had. And knowing her, his sweet and methodical Annie, she had a very detailed plan that, based on the sensation of her fingers gliding down his back and around to his bare chest, she’d worked out every detail. Not that he was complaining.
Nope, Emmitt was enjoying the hell out of every glide and touch.
Her kiss was finally going to shift the debate from Who gets